Emotional Baggage
by Streets of Fire
Summary: Tancred learns that he can't deal with girls and purses. Lysander learns never to get sidetracked. Emma learns she has new friends. Oneshot. Sort of a prequelish to 'Twelve More Bells'.


A/N Nergh… I used to love the Charlie Bone books when I was younger. I always imagined that Tancred, Emma and Lysander would be friends… I dunno why.

The problem with Tancred is that he would never in a million years get over his first impression of people.

His first impression of Lysander had been; _This boy is mad and brilliant._ The sentiment still held, but the pair had tacked on:_ And if we were girls, we would call eachother BFFLs. _

His first impression of Emma Tolly was that of a glassy eyed pale girl who was neither on Manfred's side or his and Lysander's. She just sat in the King's Room, though she had no particular endowment, floating between the two groups with Billy Raven. Now he knew that the glassy eyes came from ten years running of hypnosis induced stupor, but a first impression was a first impression. Which is why, even years after Manfred's hold had been broken, holding a conversation beyond: "Pass over the HB pencils when you're done, please."

Today, however, he and Lysander had ended up sharing one of the Free periods after schools in the art room with the Tolly girl. She had slipped into the art room quietly, startling the pair when her sketchbook clatter onto the table top. She nodded in greeting, took a seat at a table on the opposite side, placing her purse beside her. Neither boy minded much, just chattered on about all types of boy type things.

A while later, Tancred rose to retrieve an eraser. Passing by the girl's table, one of his gawky elbows caught the loop of her purse, bringing the bag and his hopes of ever reaching clubbing age crashing to the floor.

One thing that Tancred had picked up from life with and amongst girls was that The Purse was a sacred article. The Purse was the temple, and the girl was simply the priestess. It held such super-secret-bird-type things, like eyeliner and..er… lady products. It was a no-go zone for all males, a lesson he learned a hard way from his first girlfriend, who had knocked away his hand when he had attempted to take a peek inside the thing. And, as any good friend would do, he passed this piece of information onto his best friend, hoping to spare him the pain and suffering of an angry girlfriend and puffy hand.

Thus, there they were in the sprawling art room of Bloor's Academy, with the crackle of approaching lightning and the thrumming of native drums bouncing off the walls. Both boys looked expectantly from the pale girl in front of them, to each other, and then to the upended purse on the ground.

"Tolly-"

"We didn't mean to-"

"-such a stupid-"

"-bloody mistake-"

"Sorry, sorry, sorry-"

"Please don't turn into a vulture and peck my eyes out…"

Emma let out a surprised sigh and shrugged her shoulders before kneeling down to gather up the goods spilling out of her hand bag. The two boys shared a relieved look, relaxing a little and going back to their work. Lysander hesitated a little before setting down the clay bust he had been working on and kneeling down to help her.

"Man, what are you doing!" Tancred blurted out unapologetically , gesturing to the two teens kneeling before the pile of loose change, scraps of paper, make-up cases and the odd snack wrapper ( A/N Based on my older sister's purse. I borrow her phone once and it was covered in a layer of muffin crumbs).  
"Oh its fine," Emma laughed, "I'm not all territorial about my stuff." She scooped the last of her things into her purse and swung it over her shoulder before grabbing her sketch pad and heading for the door. "Er… laters."

"My friend," Tancred said, clapping his friend on the back, "Girls are hella weird." Lysander rolled his eyes and rapped his fist on the other boy's head.

"Don't say that word again."

Tancred yawned and peeked around the corner. Once again, he had been roused in the middle of the night to accompany his friend on a late night run to the art room. Every once in a while, Lysander would slip up (A/N Sculpture humor!) and forget to do something clay related. Then the two would venture down from the dormitories at some ungodly hour, risking life and free Saturdays to fix the problem. But, this didn't make the storm summonor any more coherent.

"Grahh shnnnahnnn," he grumbled, rubbing his eyes.

"I forgot to spray my sculpture before we left today. And I'm not letting two bloody months of work go down the tubes because of it." He tugged his friend's sleeve and the pair sprinted down the corridor, swinging into the art room.

Tancred stopped in the door, suddenly alert. There was a figuring crouching beside one of the tables, rooting around on the floor. "Pike," Tancred whispered inquisitively. Lysander shrugged as the figure rose and turned.

"Ah!" All three jumped.

"Geez, Tolly," Tancred breathed, "Scared me half to bloody death."

"I'm..so..sorry," Emma sniffled, wiping away her eyes. The boys squirmed uncomfortably in the door way. "I..uh… lost my necklace I think… when my purse fell over…" She knelt down again, peeking under the tables. Lysander tapped his friend's shoulder and gestured that they should help her. Jumping over the last two steps, they joined the search.

"Not to be rude or anything," Tancred said after about twenty minutes of poking around under tables and cabinets, "But why wasn't your necklace doing its job and er… lacing… your neck?"

"The clasp broke," Emma called from under one of the high tables, " I was going to get it fixed this weekend." She stood and surveyed to room again.

"Once again, not to be rude-"

"Tanc, that immdietly signals that you ARE going to be rude," Lysander said, picking lint from off his t-shirt.

"-as I was saying, why can't you just get another necklace."

"Its my mother's locket," Emma said, her voice faultering. "My dad died a little while ago… My mum died…when I was a baby. Its all I have-"

"Bloody-! That was rude, I'm really sorry," Tancred yelped. Lysander refrained from a chorus of "I told you so." Emma had adapted to life without much family, but it was still obviously something really awful and arseheaded thing to bring up.

To cover the now expanding awkward silence, Tancred plopped onto the ground and poked under a particularly dusty and disused vent. Something shiny caught his eye among the dust bunnies. He grabbed at it, withdrawing a fistful of fluff with an oval locket nestled on top. Tancred rose and held the clump triumphantly in the air.

"This it?" he called, carrying his prize over to Emma and Lysander. The pale girl took the locket and popped it open, regarding the picture inside.

"Yes… Thank you."

There was a pause.

"Tancred says 'Your welcome. I am sorry I'm a git.'," Lysander answered. "Now lets all get back to bed before we're stuck here all weekend."

"Oh! Bloody hell!" Lysander stage whispered to the two teens next to him. All three were flattened against a stone wall about two yards away from the staircase. He peeked his head out, looking for a sign of Manfred patrolling the hallways. A dark splotch appeared at the end of the hall. "I forgot to spray my sculpture!"

A/N I think I made up about 5 words… What ever. This might end up being a three part story of one shots… So a three shot… What?


End file.
